Roses
by Charmingly-Evil
Summary: Summary: On Christmas Eve a simple daisy and her beauty ignites Carson with a wave of feelings for a certain Housekeeper. After saving Mrs. Hughes from a nasty fall and finding one beautiful rose, one thing leaves to another and a very sweet moment for the two of them. Warning: prepare for fluffiness, adorableness, cuteness and lots and lots of roses. Chelsie Mrs. Hughes/Carson


_Summary: On Christmas Eve a simple daisy and her beauty ignites Carson with a wave of feelings for a certain Housekeeper. After saving Mrs. Hughes from a nasty fall and finding one beautiful rose, one thing leaves to another and a very sweet moment for the two of them. Warning: prepare for fluffiness, adorableness, cuteness and lots and lots of roses. Chelsie Mrs. Hughes/Carson_

_My first Downton Abbey fic so I hope I did this ship justice! They are just so cute! And I altered it slightly so Mrs. Hughes's room and sitting room is together on the lower floor, but I did it to suit the story :) And the time may be a bit confusing but it's set around the time Matthew found out he couldn't walk again. Enjoy! :D _

_Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time _

**Roses**

* * *

Snow fell like icing sugar, blanketing Downton's verdant fields with layers of sparkling ice. An icy wind swept and swirled the air, chilling bones with a shiver and nipping numb skin. Maids scurried around the halls frantically with their duties as Mrs. Patmore wobbled past with a plate piled high with creamy desserts with Daisy at her heels, carrying the Christmas pudding that balanced precariously on the ivory plate. Gardeners and Decorators weaved through the crowds and fought against the harsh winter air outside, carrying bags of Christmas decorations and flowers to decorate Downton with.

The Manor indeed looked grand, dusted with the glittering snow, shimmering tinsel entwined the windows, doors hung with wreaths, crystal angels and other stunning ornaments such as porcelain doves, lush holy, golden bells and delicate, glass balls embellished Downton with Christmas cheer.

Charles Carson drew his shoulders back commandingly and admired the house he strode through the snow he made his way into the Manor. The magnificent house was truly glowing this morning, mirroring the festive season. Carson watched the servants hurry around, satisfied that they were working hard to make Downton shine during tonight's Christmas ball. Carson knew the importance of this event; businessmen, lords and anyone who carried prestige would be attending the ball and Carson was determined to make tonight a success.

A flash of green caught the Butler's eyes as he made his way into the grand ball to check up on the decorators work. Charles paused and followed the glittering glare, his eyes widening in astonishment then froze in horror. Mrs. Hughes was balancing on a stepladder, her heeled boots dangerously dug into the ends of the platform as she struggled to nail a Christmas wreath to the mahogany door of the ballroom.

"Mrs. Hughes!"

His booming voice caught her off guard and she gasped, struggling to maintain her balance she fell backwards. Quickly Carson raced forward and caught her, wobbling slightly at the sudden weight. Mrs. Hughes chest heaved as she tried to calm down her racing heart, one of his arms holding her legs whilst the other wrapped around her waist to support her.

Carson's breath caught in his throat when her startling, icy eyes locked onto his. Her eyes always fascinated him; they were deep blue so they almost resembled oval sapphires, they always reminded him of the ocean.

"Mr. Carson?"

Her voice brought him back to reality and he gently released her back to the ground, clearing his throat and taking a small step back.

"Do watch yourself Mrs. Hughes, what on earth were you thinking of, climbing up ladders?" he said gruffly, casting a glance at the precarious ladder. "You should leave that work for the decorators."

The housekeeper brushed down the ends of her dress. "I was simply putting the wreath up to add a bit of festive cheer to the room," Elsie paused, meeting his disapproving gaze. She repressed a sigh as his usual uptight demeanor. "I know it wasn't for me to do but it was a simple task, I thought I'd do it myself. Really Mrs. Carson, it's nothing to worry yourself over."

Charles let out a huffy breath. "I just want make sure that everything runs smoothly for tonight, might I mind remind you just how behind we are? The flowers are yet to be brought, Mrs. Patmore is missing ingredients needed for the dozen roasts she hasn't made and Anna, Emily and Mr. Thomas are sick with the flue. A crippled Housekeeper certainly wouldn't help matters."

Mrs. Hughes repressed an eye roll at his usual exaggeration, an amused smile touching her lips. She always felt that she was one of the few staff in the household who was able to see through Carson's public display and sharp words. She decided to remain silent and let him have his rant.

Mrs. Carson was about to bid his leave when he noticed an indigo daisy tucked neatly in her hair, complimenting her soft, blue eyes. He admitted it: the new accessory seemed to enhance her beauty. Carson scolded himself immediately for such a preposterous thought, he shouldn't be seeing her in that light…though there was no denying the woman carried a certain charm and elegance with her, and he always admired her for it. Mindlessly his eyes began to wonder, admiring her dark curls held neatly with the pins down to fair skin and neck hidden behind her high collar. He couldn't help but wish she wore a dress that revealed her neck, he was sure that like the rest of her skin it would be fair and soft.

"Something the matter Mr. Carson?"

Elsie peered into Charles, catching his eyes with her concerned gaze. Carson cleared his throat, composing himself once more.

"Certainly not, Mrs. Hughes."

Mrs. Hughes nodded, still unconvinced. "Very well then, thank you for saving me from a nasty fall but rest assured I am perfectly capable of nailing a wreath to the door, and things will run smoothly tonight," she said with a small smile, knowing that no matter what she said, the old man will still fret and watch the staff with sharp eyes in order for tonight to be perfect. "Now I best be on my way to finish the final preparations."

Carson watched her go before he walked off to continue the day, but all day the house keeper kept on drifting into his mind, Mrs. Hughes and her indigo flower.

…

Carson took a deep breath and exhaled, staring at the bouquet of crimson flowers in his hands. He had just collected the last of the flowers needed for tonight's ball when he spotted the luscious, delicate roses and was immediately reminded of Mrs. Hughes.

Heat rushed under his skin and crept its way up to his neck as his heart skipped a beat at the thought of the Housekeeper. A small smile twitched the corner of his lips. He had always admired her, the strict, stony person she fooled others to see, but just like the rose a look past her thorns would show her beauty and elegance. Beneath her stonewalls she did have a gentle heart and kind nature: she really was like a mother to Downton's maids. Indeed, Carson found that during his worst tempers it was always Mrs. Hughes who was able to calm him down and make him see reason when he felt the anger bubbling inside him, close to eruption.

And over the past few days he had been overcome with foreign feelings for this woman, though he never had time to properly work them out. Certainly it was inappropriate to be thinking about Mrs. Hughes as anyone but a valued staff of Downton and yes, perhaps even a friend. Yet over the past few weeks he couldn't help but notice her allure more and more, and he even found himself pondering a relationship with the woman. Then she wore that daisy, that daring, stunning flower which made his heart pound and his stomach flip. The flower that awoke his feelings for her that he had struggled to keep dormant these past few weeks, and now it burned inside like a flickering flame. The daisy if possible, made her more beautiful than usual.

Carson shook his head roughly, breaking out of his thoughts. He gently rubbed the velvety petals between his fingers and smelt the sweet fragrance, and was immediately reminded of Mrs. Hughes's soft skin and the lavender aroma she exuded. It was ludicrous, but he couldn't help but think, these flowers would look lovely on her coffee table. Then without a second thought Carson purchased the bouquet of roses and to his surprise found a small card attached to the bouquet's wrapping paper.

Carson's eyebrows pinched into a frown as he made his way back to Downton, the bag of flowers in his hand and Mrs. Hughes bouquet in the other as he thought of what to write. Perhaps a small thank you note on the contribution and value she brings to the household? No, it was too professional and reserved, especially for the relationship they had. Carson never believed that he had many close colleagues in Downton, nor did he believe he needed them, but Mrs. Hughes was the closest person he had to a friend, so surely the note should reflect their friendship?

His mind strayed off to the other night when the maids were dancing foolishly in the dining room with the footmen and servants, and Carson had witnessed one of Mrs. Hughes rare laughs. It never failed to melt his heart and soften his lips into a smile. Charles always wished Mrs. Hughes would laugh more. He was always captivated with the way her features would light up, her eyes would glimmer and a soft glow would radiate from her whenever she laughed. Yes, she was truly beautiful when she laughed. Then Carson knew what to write, though he had to ensure that the delivery remained anonymous.

Once Carson reached the dining room (which was thankfully empty), he pulled out his pen and wrote…

_Mrs. Hughes, I came across these flowers when I was passing by the Florist and was immediately reminded of you. I hope you're fond of them as I'm certain they'll be a lovely addition to your coffee table. I thought they reflected your beauty, grace and charm, and I very much wish for you to see it too. _

Carson lifted his pen, satisfied with the note. As Carson made his was to her sitting room**,** he only wished that he could see her smile as she received his gift.

…

The day flew by in a whirling blur and soon night had fallen, the guests dined, danced, chatted and enjoyed Christmas Eve. Yes, overall the night was a success, yet Carson was furious.

He marched down the hallway, his insides spitting and hissing with anger. It was 11 o'clock and the guests had left and the Grantham's had retired for the night, many a little intoxicated to have a second thought about the staff downstairs. The maids and footmen believed that they would celebrate themselves instead of retiring now to wake up to an early morning of cleaning up the celebration.

Carson had entered the dimly lit dinning room to find half the maids dancing with the intoxicated servants, laughing and chatting and causing too much of a racket for Carson's taste. But the last straw was when Daisy, flushed and giddy, boldly kissed James. Carson was infuriated at their lack of maturity and professionalism and put a stop to it at once, but no sooner had he arrived back up in his room the racket had started again. Their slurring chatter and laughter reached his office, causing his arms to tremble and his fingers to snap his pen with rage. Certainly he could have marched back down and warn them of the consequences if they were to continue their affair, but knew that it was almost pointless as they were far too drunk and excited to listen to him. And though their commotion was only loud enough to reach his rooms, he soon feared that the clamor would travel upstairs and awake the Grantham's. So acting on his best judgment he marched straight to Mrs. Hughes, knowing that she could put her maids back in their place.

…

An exhausting sigh pushed out of Elsie's lips as she stared wearily into her mirror. She began the process of removing her pins, gently pulling each one out and lining them next to each other on her dressing table she watched her faded, chocolate curls fall loosely around her frame like soft waves. Removing her dress, corset and stockings she then changed into her silk, thin summer nightgown, looking forward to a good book then sleep.

Mrs. Hughes made her way to the sitting room where she would usually read for a bit on her settee before she retired to bed when she spotted a bouquet of roses and a note on her coffee table. Her eyebrows furrowed into a frown as she approached the gift and picked up the bouquet, reading over the note. A small smile graced her lips and her heart fluttered when she had finished reading the note. Who would send her such a gift? Certainly one-man came into her mind, one of the few close friends she had in Downton but Elsie squashed the thought immediately. Carson was far too aloof to ever do such a thing and write such a note, but Mrs. Hughes was touched nonetheless with her secret…admirer? Yes…Mrs. Hughes thought, a soft smile curling her lips. Admirer.

A small frown creased Elsie's eyebrows; even though she was flattered to have an admirer she didn't quite know how to take it. Certainly she was shocked at the gift, but who in Downton would ever give her such a sentimental…_romantic_ gift? Firstly, most of the men in the household were half her age, no…the only possible man who knew her well and was within her age range was Charles Carson. And if Mr. Carson was the sender…

Mrs. Hughes shook her head, far too tired to think about the flowers and note any longer. So instead she placed the gifts back on the table and collapsed onto the settee and settled in comfortably, drawing her legs up to her chest as she flipped through the pages of her novel. Yet Elsie's mind drifted off as she read, the man had been looking at her oddly lately. She assumed it was just her eyes playing tricks on her, or the old man was simply distracted lately. But today his eyes seemed lost in hers and she noticed that they briefly wandered over her before she caught his attention again. Could this possibly mean…?

The door suddenly burst open and Mr. Carson stormed in, his face flushed with fury.

"Mrs. Hughes, you must see to it that-"

Charles stopped as he spotted Mrs. Hughes settled on the couch, her hair tousled and loose around her frame and her nightgown scrunched up past her knees, exposing her naked legs. Mrs. Hughes's eyes widened and she dropped the book, quickly straightening down the ends of her dress, her cheeks reddening a faint scarlet.

"As much as I appreciate your company Mr. Carson, I should ask that you knock next time," she said hurriedly, irritation lacing her voice as she made her way towards him, wrapping her nightgown around her tightly to cover her improper attire.

"I-I am terribly sorry Mrs. Hughes," Mr. Carson managed to say, trying his best to hold her gaze and not let his eyes wander off to her free, fallen hair or creamy skin or…

"Whatever is this all about?" she asked.

Charles straightened up his dinner jacket and said irritably, "Your maids are running amok downstairs, letting their hair loose, dancing with the footmen, singing and I believe they are on the verge of intoxication as well."

"Well, are they causing such a disruption that they will awake her ladyship?"

"No, but-"

"Then Mr. Carson," she cut him off with a stern look. "I fail to see what the problem is, it's Christmas Eve and I'm sure they merely want to celebrate."

Carson's eyes bulged with shock, completely taken back at her comment. "What? So you're not going to do anything? And suppose they do wake her ladyship?"

Mrs. Hughes pursed her lips, studying him with her almond eyes. "Then we will stop them before it gets that far," she said firmly before pausing, resting her hand on his shoulder. "But for now let them be and enjoy their night, Lord knows we've had very little to celebrate these past few weeks."

Carson's eyes saddened when he remembered Mathew's tragic injury and sighed, nodding in agreement. Mrs. Hughes slid her hand from his shoulder and watched him closely. Her eyes rounded when she noticed a splash of scarlet on his jacket, it was a rose petal. A small smile formed on her lips as the realisation dawned on her, so he did send it to her.

Mrs. Hughes slowly made her way to the mahogany table and picked up the bouquet before she approached Carson. Carson felt his heart stop when he noticed his gift, surely she couldn't have found out…

"Mr. Carson, you have a little something there," she pointed to her collarbone.

Charles mirrored her movement, his eyes widening when he picked up the rose petal from his jacket. He met Mrs. Hughes's eyes and saw her smiling, the roses in her hands.

"Thank you for the gift," she said softly, her accent thicker than usual. "It was very sweet and I admit, I was touched. Thank you."

Carson nodded curtly, heat dangerously rising to his cheeks and he couldn't help but think how heavenly her Scottish accent sounded in his ears. "Well I best be off," he said swiftly, averting his eyes from her gaze as he made his way to her door.

"Wait!" Mrs. Hughes walked after him and he froze at the doorway before turning around. "Might I ask what provoked you to send me such a gift?"

Mrs. Hughes took a small step towards him so Carson could hear the sounds of her steady breathing. Charles opened his mouth to answer but shut it again, his mind racing for an answer. Because the truth was, was that he cared for her deeply and, though he hated to admit it, he was quite fond of her.

"Because it's the truth," he finally whispered, his eyes locking onto hers. "I hope you don't think me forward to say," he continued carefully. "But Elise Hughes, you are a graceful, strong…beautiful woman, and I've always admired that about you."

Mrs. Hughes felt her heart melt like a dying candle at his words, which seemed to sink inside her, fluttering her heart like an autumn leaf and sending a surge of heat inside her. She felt her eyes loosing themselves in his chocolate pools, completely taken back by his comment as she began to lose all awareness of her surroundings. And although Carson tried to avoid it, he too was falling for her.

It was then that Carson realized that the blue daisy was missing from her hair. Reaching for her roses he plucked one of the rose buds from the stem and tucked it behind her hair. Mrs. Hughes gasped at his actions before her lips melted into a soft smile. And she had never looked more beautiful.

A flash of green caught Carson's attention and their eyes flickered up, spotting the lush mistletoe hanging delicately from the ceiling. The ticking clock in the background slowly droned into a deafening silence as his surroundings became a blur. Boldly he took another step forward and lent in, his breath caressing her jaw before he brushed his lips against hers. And his kiss took her breath away.

Her eyes widened at his bold actions before she surrendered to his kiss. His lips molded on hers as her lips moved with his, temping and begging him for a deeper response. Static dances across their skin as their heart pounded like vicious tigers yearning to escape, beating into each other's chest as one. She parted her lips for him, allowing him granting him deeper access in a hungry kiss. His fingers gently threaded through the side of her curls as her hands snaked around his neck, her cool fingers tracing his skin as she pulled him in closer.

Then just as quick as it happened the realisation of Carson's actions plummeted on him and he pulled away, completely horrified at his actions.

"I-I'm terribly sorry Mrs. Hughes," he managed to stutter. "I best say goodnight now and organize tomorrow evening's-"

"Oh Mr. Carson," Mrs. Hughes said wearily, a small smile dancing on her lips. "Must everything you say be about work?"

And she brought her lips back up to his.

* * *

This was my first ever Chelsie fic so please leave a review and tell me if I did it well! Was the grammar good, were they in character, how was the plot? Constructive criticism would be appreciated! So please review and thanks for reading. :)


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